


Call It Anything but Love: Side Stories

by sunbearparade



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Minor Character Death, Mourning, Snippets and extras
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-14 16:15:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5749783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunbearparade/pseuds/sunbearparade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Little snippets and side stories that are a part of the CIABL universe but don't fit into the main storyline. Ratings will vary. </p><p>1. Dis grew up with the knowledge that reclamation meant sacrifice, and she wasn’t ready to give up any more family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Call It Anything but Love: Side Stories

**Author's Note:**

> So I have a lot of ideas and little scenes written out in this 'verse, but not all of them fit into the main story arc of CIABL, so I decided to make a little collection here. 
> 
> Also, to those of you who read CIABL, I AM SO SORRY. I am going through some really bad writer's block right now/kind of stuck in a few places. It's so frustrating having the ideas in my head, but not being able to get them written out or knowing where to put them. My goal was to get out more than 1 chapter every two months, but well. Yeah. That didn't happen.
> 
> Anyways! First side story is not what you'd call cheery, sorry about that.

Dis had learned at a young age not to hold onto people’s promises too tightly. Decades of dealing with the ache of loss taught her not to keep her hopes up too much and to say her goodbyes early.

It was inevitable, Thorin leaving for Erebor. Dis watched from a distance as the light dulled day by day in those once sharp eyes of her brother’s. Slaving away in a smithy for unappreciative Men and Ered Luin dwarves, making just enough to get by on, was breaking him down. If he didn’t leave now, he might only last a few more years at best. This journey was his calling, the last real driving force he had left.

It had taken so long for the plans to finally come to fruition, but not for lack of trying. There had just always been something that kept Thorin from leaving. Dis would never say it aloud, but she was always relieved when the journey was delayed again and again.  

Of course she wanted her old home back. She wanted Thorin to take his rightful place on the throne. She wanted her sons to experience and learn about their kingdom in something other than stories.

Sometimes Dis dreamt about being back in Erebor. She might have been young when it fell, but she was old enough to remember details about her life there. Old enough to feel the bone-deep sadness that followed when she thought about how her boys would never get the childhood they deserved.

All they had were the stories and wistful memories handed down to them, but no amount of words could ever paint out how truly magnificent the kingdom was. They would never be able to accurately describe the grandeur of the stone halls with impossibly high ceilings, the beautiful tapestries within the King’s Halls that told so many stories. The smells near the kitchens and lavish meals. The bustling life and excitement, the music, the celebrations and banquets… Things were good there.

Or maybe they weren’t. She was only a small lass, after all. The perfection she remembered could have only been a mix of nostalgia and innocence yet to be tarnished by hardships. But it would always be home.

Dis would give it all up in a heartbeat, however, if it meant she would lose anyone else.

Dis grew up with the knowledge that reclamation meant sacrifice, and she wasn’t ready to give up any more family.

Azanulbizar stole her grandfather, father, and brother all at once.

They were only children. Frerin was so young, and Thorin, already struggling with the weight of the world on his shoulders, wasn’t much older. She remembered Frerin’s goodbye clearly—he hugged her tight and told her to stop crying. He could take care of himself. Soon he and Thorin would be back to take her back to Moria. The three would explore it together and help build it up again. She clung tightly to his promise like she clung to her brothers. She would never forget the terror in Frerin’s eyes that betrayed his easy smile. They were only children and had already lost so much.

She watched four of them march into battle. Only one came back.

They didn’t talk about Frerin for a long time. Dis didn’t ask how he died. Thorin didn’t talk about it. It was like reopening a wound that wouldn’t heal. His name didn’t come up until Dis startled awake one night, realizing she was starting to forget Frerin’s voice.

Thorin stayed up with her that night, and for the first time in what felt like years (she wasn’t sure if it really was—everything back then was such a blur), they talked about him. Their favourite stories and memories. Thorin was finally able to open up about Frerin’s final moments. He didn’t fall in the war like the others. There was an ambush on the caravan on their way home, and Frerin was caught in the attack. He bled out in Thorin’s arms, terrified and begging for life. It would haunt Thorin for the rest of his days.

 

And then there was Vili. Her beautiful Vili—golden-haired and brilliant. He was a gentle soul, a musician and a miner with a smile brighter than the Sun.

Vili was one of the best things to ever happen to Dis. He brought a light into her life again and made her laugh more than she had in years. It was barely a year after they had begun courting that they had Fili, who was nearly the spitting image of his father. Then Kili came, and Dis had never imagined having such a full life. The two dwarflings never failed to show her the good that still remained in the world.

She taught Vili how to fight with axes, and he taught her to find the beauty in everything. If ever there was the definition of a One, Vili was it. They struggled and they fought to stay afloat when everything around them threatened to crumble, but they never left the other’s side. Dis was able to drop her walls, and slowly she was learning to stop fearing the end of something good. 

He kissed her goodbye one night, leaving with Thorin and Dwalin on a simple routine inspection of the paths along Ered Luin’s walls. It was safe, would only take a few hours at most.

Only Thorin and Dwalin came back in the morning.

The light went out like a candle submerged in water. 

She didn’t cry at first, no. Not like she did when the dragon took Erebor. Not like she did in the aftermath of Azanulbizar, or when their amad had finally passed. She couldn’t cry.

There was only numbness. She stumbled for weeks through a thick haze that felt like an inescapable nightmare. She hoped wished prayed begged that she would wake up soon, that she could get back to life. But she knew, in the back of her mind, that this wasn’t something she could wake from. When she snapped back to reality, the other side of the bed would still be cold and empty. There would be no breath on the back of her neck, or an arm wrapped tight around her, or the irritating snore in her ear. She wouldn’t be greeted with a half-awake smile, or a kiss despite the morning breath. Vili was gone, and no amount of begging and praying could bring him back. 

It was her sons that finally broke her out of it. Kili was sullen and dull, and Fili was angry, livid. Hurting.  He had lashed out at Thorin and Dis had managed to pull him back.

“This was _not_ your uncle’s fault.” It was the first she had spoken in weeks, and her voice was strained and unfamiliar. “We’re all we have left now. Turning against each other will do _nothing._ ”

Her son tensed, then crumpled in her arms and for the first time since that night, she was able to feel something again.

Dis had thought that maybe she would be able to keep Thorin and her boys. Maybe they could make Ered Luin a decent place to live. They could make another attempt to make it home. But no.

Thorin was leaving and Dis was forced to say goodbye yet again. She stayed strong as she watched them ride out the gates, silently begging Mahal to return them to her alive. That maybe for once, _just this once_ , history wouldn’t have to repeat itself.


End file.
